The Story Of A Glitch
by BrainlessThoughts
Summary: A story of how Error Sans became Error Sans. I'll probably update slowly.


In the world of nothing but white, no sounds or lights or shadows, laid a black, red, yellow, and blue boned skeleton. The tips of his fingers were yellow, and below that, they were red. On his face were blue lines streaking down from his eyes to the bottom of his eyes. They resembled something like tears. His legs were a deep red, just like the red on his fiingers. He wore a blue and black jacket. The blue was dark and faded into black at the bottom. Under the jacket was a deep red turtle neck that contrasted with his bones. He wore black shorts with the blue lines going down on the side. On his feet, he wore black, fluffy slippers.

The skeleton opened up his multicolored eyes, red eye sockets while one eye only contained a white dot, the other had blue ontop of yellow with a black dot in the middle. He glanced around curiously.

He was fine. He was just dreaming. That was the comforting words he muttered to himself. He seemed shocked at the voice that came out though. This wasn't his voice. His voice didn't change octaves and stutter over words like a glitch.

His eyes trailed down to his hands, hoping for some calming familiarity but was shocked to find the yellow, red and black colored hands that greeted him. He didn't look like this! Not from what he last remembered anyway. He had white bones.

He grew more panicked but tried to tell himself that it was simply a dream. He had to be. It was just some weird dream and he would wake up to his brother yelling at him.

Who was his brother? Why can't he remember his own sibling?! He attempted to fight the growing panic by saying comforting words. "IT's NotHiNG. I'm FinE. I'lL bE FiNE." He repeated these few sentences until he started to believe them.

He rose up on shakey legs. He knew how to walk. Of course he did. This was common knowledge. At least, he thinks so. But, when he tried to take a step, he stumbled and fell.

Falling made him feel like a child. A pitiful baby full of innocent wonder. He hated it. He tried again. His legs were weak and barely seemed to hold his weight, but he refused to give up until his legs numb. He kept attempting to walk and falling.

When he was able to get a few steps in without falling, he gave out a cheer. He felt proud. He shouldn't be proud for relearning how to walk, but he worked so hard.

He stood still, eyes glancing around. Maybe it was like a desert. If he kept walking, he would reach an oasis. He nodded to himself. That makes sense. But which way to go? Did it matter? Which direction was he facing anyway?

He stopped questioning the place he was trapped in. That will only make things harder for you. He had to remind himself constantly. Questioning things he could not get an answer to would drive him mad, desperation eating at his brain.

He walked for hours, and when he could walk no longer and his legs would buckle, he sat and rested. He slept. He would sleep, wake up, and keep moving. He repeated this many times. He lost count after 40.

When he gave up on walking, he laid down. He shut his eyes and forced himself to sleep. Maybe if he slept more and longer, he would be free. He can sleep away this nightmare.

So, he slept. When he woke up, he would look around excitedly until he realized no one was around and nothing changed. Then, he would sleep again. The cycle repeated until his hope drained and he just tried to sleep time away.

He grew tired of sleeping eventually. His body grew more reluctant to sleep and his mind worked overtime. He just wanted to be free!

Eventually, he started to scream and cry out in hopes that someone, anyone, would here him and come to the rescue. He let the panic win. He screamed with terror. He screamed until he could no longer scream.

When he couldn't scream, he would cry harder. No sound would come out but he knew it wanted to. He knew that if he didn't scream all of it away, his sobs would take control of his voice. He cried until he was unable to cry.

This cycle repeated multiple times.

Then came the voices. The crammed into his head, shouting so many things at once. Overlapping each other. At first, the skeleton grew hopeful that this was a sign that someone was there. Oh how his hope shattered when he found that the voices had no bodies.

The voices weren't all mean or angry. Most of them were pretty nice. They worried about him. It took a few days, maybe it was hours or years that had passed, but he grew used to them. He found comfort from them.

When they asked how he got here, he tried to tell them. He tried to tell them about his friends and family until he found he could no longer remember their names or faces. He sobbed loudly and fearfully when he couldn't remember them. He lost his comfort. He lost what was going to get him out of here.

They were his only reason to get out. They were all he knew! The voices worried about him and tried to comfort him while others called him a sissy or a wuss.

He only grew sadder.

It took what seemed like forever for the glitch to calm down. How could he when his only hope of freedom was gone? But, he talked to the voices about what happened.

They listened to him. They comforted him in the way they could, but it wasn't enough. He started to crave touch. He wrapped his arms around himself to stimulate a hug.

He wished for contact until some of the voices gained bodies. They were usually gray with black glasses. He didn't like it. He didn't like it when they tried to touch him. It felt like acid.

The voices said they would work on touch later. He agreed, glad they stopped touching him.

It took him a while before he realized that he had magic. One of the voices with a body tried to scare him, and it worked, but they got blasted by a animalistic thing.

The things looked like him and it glitched as well. He was curious. He tried to summon it again and failed.

He refused to give up.

He kept attempting to summon the thing until it worked. When it did work, he examined it. He made it blast out the magic again and instantly decided on calling it a blaster. Some of the voices mocked him for suck a simple name.

He kept testing his magic and found out that he could summon bones. Maybe with his magic, he could find a way out? The thought made him happy and hopeful again.

He would try work hard on being free. He would try everything. Forcing all his magic in one area, trying to use his strings to open something, using his blasters. Anything.

And one day, it worked. A portal opened. He stuck his head through the portal. It was freezing cold, very loud, and so bright. He almost wanted to not leave. Almost. He had worked so hard to get there though, so he jumped through the portal.

Maybe that was a mistake.

/Heeyyy. My internet is horrible so I decided to right a story. While I love the forced God of destruction Error, I've grown tired of it. I want an original Error story, so I wrote one. Anyway, I hope you have a good say.

Word count: 1313 /


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